Something New
by AshDemonYoung
Summary: Smokescreen is tired of training with Ultra Magnus and wants the old lieutenant to teach him something new... So he does. Nonsticky/pnp


Smokescreen _hated _training.

Now don't get him wrong, he liked it when Wheeljack would show him some awesome new bomb trick, or when Bee showed him the best way to cut corners on the humans' roads.

But well— Ok, so maybe it's not _training_ he hates, but training with _Ultra Magnus_. Ugh, it wasn't even real training anyway. Smokescreen, go clean the base, go help out Ratchet, recite protocol, Smokescreen go do this, go do that.

It'd been over two weeks of training with the lieutenant and he hadn't learned even one new move! The older 'bot would just stand back watching him clean with this deep scowl on his face plate. And… and it's not like he doesn't respect Magnus or anything, but he wanted _real_ training. He wanted to spar with the lieutenant, to learn cool maneuvers and how to use some of the _awesome_ weapons Mags had brought with him on his ship. _Not _how to "properly pick up a box" or "the correct method to scrub floors."

Honestly! What did it matter if his hips weren't pushed out so he could "lift with his legs" or how high he lifted his aft and how wide he spread his legs for "maximum pressure" when scrubbing the floor!?

Well not today! No today, today he was going to _ask_ Ultra Magnus if they could do some _real_ training. Something that only an old pro like Mags could show him. Something cool, something—

"Soldier."

Smokescreen jumped.

"Sir!"

He hadn't expected Magnus to be here already! He hadn't had time to plan out what he was going to say or anything. Scrap, he'd been standing in the training room, so focused on his own thoughts that he hadn't even heard the larger mech enter the room. How could he have _not_ of heard the big 'bot? Ultra Magnus wasn't exactly known for his stealth.

Smokescreen gathered himself and quickly saluted the lieutenant, trying his best to control the nervous flutter of his doorwings.

Obviously it wasn't working.

The older 'bot's optics were following his shaking appendages, and that only made the fluttering _worse!_

"Something on your mind, soldier," Magnus asked him, never once looking away from his doorwings.

"N-no,sir! I'm just—uh—excited for another day of training, sir."

If Magnus noticed his stammering the only response he gave was a raised optical ridge.

"Today you will be accompanying me to my ship."

Really, Mags' ship? Awesome! Maybe he'd finally get to try out one of the lieutenant's weapons. Why else would they take a trip all the way to Magnus' ship?

Ultra Magnus turned away from him and started walking toward the room's exit. He was glad that Mags was no longer looking at him. It left him free to show his—

"Once there you will then proceed to cleaning the bridge. After you are done there you will take the empty energon cubes and stack them in the storage room."

Utter disappointment.

He followed the larger 'bot out of the base, not even bothering to stop the drooping of his doorwings. Not that Mags would notice anyway. The lieutenant, not even looking back at him, had transformed and started off in the direction of his ship. Leaving Smokescreen to quickly transform and follow him.

All the way there Smokescreen grumbled to himself.

Why? Why have him scrub floors and stack cubes? He was a highly trained Elite Guard. He had served under Alpha-Trion. Smokescreen was the greenhorn of team Prime, he understood that. But to be treated as nothing but a common custodian 'bot. Even back at boot camp he'd been running basic drills and sparing with other trainees.

Maybe- maybe Mags was just waiting for him to be more assertive. Yeah, that's it! Still thinking to himself Smokescreen transformed back just as Magnus did, walking right by the lieutenant and into the ship.

All he'd have to do is say in a strong Magsy like voice "Sir, having me clean your ship would be a misuse of my talents. I feel that my time with you would be much better spent with you being taught some new maneuvers or doing some other form of _real_ training." Yeah, that's what he'd say.

"_What_ was _that, soldier?"_ The last word was growled and made Smokescreen shiver in horror.

Oh—oh scrap. He'd- he'd said that out loud. And now Magnus was giving him a look that he'd never seen before. One that screamed of unspeakable torment that was headed his way. Optics narrowed, mouth pushed so thin he could hardly make it out- oh he was do dead.

But Magnus didn't say anything else, he didn't raise a fist to pummel him, he just… turned away and walked toward a long panel lining one of his ship's walls. He placed his servo on the wall next to the panel, then a whooshing sound was heard and Smokescreen got to see one of the most glorious sights he had ever seen next to seeing Optimus Prime for the first time.

There were so. Many. Weapons! He didn't even know what more than half of them were called! It'd worked? It'd actually worked!?

"So you want to learn new _maneuvers,_ do you?"

This was so happening! Smokescreen quickly nodded his helm "Yes, sir. I really wanna learn something new, something only you could teach me."

Magnus nodded and pulled something off of the weapons rack. It looked like… stasis cuffs?

"Um, sir?"

The lieutenant turned back to him and showed him the cuffs.

"I have recently been informed of your capture by the Decepticons."

Mags started walking toward him. The cuffs glinting dangerously in his servo. And yeah, he'd been captured, but he'd also gotten himself free. Where was he going with this?

"You were unable to free yourself until _after_ you had acquired the phase shifter from the enemy's doctor."

Magnus circled him, finally coming to a stop directly behind him. The taller 'bot leaned down and whispered directly into his audial "And _I_ feel it is time for you to learn how to remove yourself from bonds without the aid of a relic while under, _pressure._"

Smokescreen couldn't stop himself from shivering. Where had this come from? But- but it was something _new_ at least. And it really was something he needed to know, so…

He gave a small shaky nod.

And with that both his arms were roughly tugged behind his back and with a click the cuffs tightened around his wrists.

Smokescreen immediately dropped to his knees. The stasis cuffs zapping away all his strength. How was he supposed to- supposed to get out of these when he could barely… b-barely think? Let alone move. His knees had already begun to shake and it took everything in him to keep himself from dropping to the floor, face first.

"S-sir, these are t-too s-strong. I… I can't m-move."

Smokescreen's entire frame was shaking with the effort to remain upright. And all Magnus did was circle him, watching him shake, the older 'bot almost seemed… amused? But there was no way; Ultra Magnus didn't have those kinds of emotions, right?

"There are no excuses, soldier. Do you think the enemy will relent if you claim your bindings are merely too _strong_?"

With a shove Smokescreen found himself chassis on the floor, aft up.

Magnus let out a growl and kicked his legs farther apart.

"What did I tell you about spreading your legs, soldier?"

But he wasn't, "But I'm n-not scrubbing the f-floors, why sh-should I haft to- haft to s-spread my l-legs?"

Smokescreen gave a deep ventilation. _C'mon Smokescreen, this is __**training**__, get it together._ No more stammering.

Alright, he could do this! He was going to get out of these cuffs and _show _Ultra Magnus that he didn't need _excuses._ Then, with only a low whistle of air to warn him, Smokescreen was smacked on the aft, _**hard**_.

"When you address me it will always be predated with or followed by a sir. Is that clear?" Magnus sounded… kinda… growly. Was this… was this normal for training? "Now, soldier," growling, the lieutenant was definitely growling "Spread. Your. Legs."

It was hard—Primus, was it hard. But Smokescreen managed to spread his legs into the wide position Mags had taught him, shaking with every movement.

"You appear to be struggling, Smokescreen. How do you expect to escape when you can barely take the correct stance?"

Something was… something was off with Magnus' vocals. They were pitched low, lower than normal. But odd vocals or no, he could do _this!_

Smokescreen opened his mouth, _barely_ getting the words out. "I c-can do it, sir. I'll g-get out of these, just you w-wait." A deep growl was his only response. Oh, scrap, "I m-mean, just y-you wait, s-sir."

Magnus nodded, "Better. And that's good to hear, soldier. Because I have not yet even _begun_ to put you under pleasure yet."

Under… under pleas—no, no he had heard wrong. The stasis cuffs were doing more than just making him weak, they were fragging with his processor too!

Well, no need to keep thinking about it. Time for action! He started tugging at the cuffs, weakly yeah, but at least it was something. And Magnus must have taken his weak struggling as some sort of cue because he dropped down to his knees behind the smaller 'bot and leaned in close next to Smokescreen's face plate, gripping one servo onto the base of one of his doorwings.

"Now, we may begin." Then that servo dragged up Smokescreen's wing and pinched the tip.

Smokescreen choked back a moan, it would be highly inappropriate for him to moan in the middle of training, but, but frag that had felt…

"S-sir, w-what?" The same was done to his other doorwing and Smokescreen bit his derma to prevent a moan from escaping, again.

Magnus smacked one of his wings. "Do not stop attempting to free yourself. _Struggle_, Smokescreen. Do whatever you can to remove yourself from my touch." Magnus then settled behind his upraised aft, closing a large servo over it.

Smokescreen jerked his aft away from the imposing servo, only to receive a loud, ringing smack.

"Ahhh! S-sir, s-stop!" Smokescreen wriggled his aft, not liking the way the smack made him… tingle. He began to tug earnestly at the cuffs. This was—w-was making him feel weird. All warm and staticky, he didn't like it.

Rather than answer his plea Magnus put both his servos over seams where legs met aft and _pushed._ The lieutenant created a gap in the plating and stroked the wires underneath, electing a small gasp from Smokescreen. He found a cluster of sensitive circuits and rubbed.

Smokescreen bucked his hips and whimpered. N-no, th-that was. The same cluster was rubbed again and the audible click of his fans whirring on could be heard. Oh- oh frag, why had they come on!? Th-they'd never d-done that before.

Magnus removed his digits from underneath his plating- oh thank Primus- and leaned over him, planting one servo on the floor next to his helm and the other gripped around his waist.

"This is training, soldier. Why are your fans running?" He punctuated the question by bring out his glossa and licking a trail up a shaking doorwing.

"S-sir, I… I d-don't know. Th- they've never j-just come on like th-that."

Mouth pressed firmly against his doorwing, Magnus hummed, as though having something confirmed

Smokescreen choked back a sob. Too much, this was t-too m-much. He jerked his body to the side trying to dislodge the lieutenant from his doorwing. But the servo around his waist tightened and held him still. Magnus hummed again and gave the wing against his mouth a hard nip.

"G-yaah, s-stop. Those… those are s-sensitive." His wing received another hard nip followed by a glossa swirling around the offended area. "S-sir!"

H-he had to s-stop shaking. He was in the middle of t-training. But his w-wings! They were… were—Ahhh!

Mags gave his doorwing a final nip and finally- finally let it go. The lieutenant sat back and Smokescreen got the distinct feeling that he was being assessed.

"Soldier, are you giving me an order?" Magnus' vocals had lost their edge and had gone back to their normal cold tone. Maybe- maybe that meant he would s-stop touching him like that. B-but—

"N-no, sir, I was j-just," Smokescreen shook his helm. No, no more stammering. "Just giving you a suggestion, sir. It's hard for me to focus on escaping with you making me feel so… off"

There! Not a single stammer.

"My _goal_, soldier, is not to make removal from your bonds easy for you. The enemy would not and neither shall I."

But…but, "You haven't e-even shown me _how_ to get out of them! You're supposed to teach me, not j-just touch me and growl at me cause' I don't know what to do!"

He didn't say sir, and he'd s-stammered, but Mags wasn't doing what he was supposed to either! Smokescreen waited for some kind of reprimand, but none came.

Magnus just leaned back and hummed. "Do you want me to _command_ you soldier?"

Just a question? No smack on the aft? Why did Smokescreen feel kind of… disappointed? It- it was nothing, just a trip in his processor. But he better answer Mags before he did, 'cause he _totally_ didn't want to get smacked agan, really.

Smokescreen answered him, "Yes! Just tell me how to get out of these cuffs already, s-sir."

Instead of replying Magnus simply hummed again and laid a servo over his back and rocked his hips forward, scraping against Smokescreen's upraised aft.

"Do you realize how compromised you've become, soldier? Your field is openly displaying your every emotion."

It was a slow grind, barely rubbing against him, just enough for static to be dragged from one 'bot to the other.

"N-no I'm not."

He… he wasn't, right?

His denial caused Magnus to stop his slow grinding. Which was good, Smokescreen didn't like how the transfer of static felt. Made his field—which he could totally control! —Made him feel buzzy, like his plating was v-vibrating.

"You are. And whether you are bound or not, you should be capable of controlling yourself."

The larger bot gripped both his Doorwings and yanked him roughly from his position on the floor, pulling him onto the lieutenant's lap, bringing his back to rest against a blue chassis, wings uncomfortably spread.

Were they… was this still training? It-it didn't feel like training. Felt… felt _weird_.

"I am going to give you a small example of what you have been _bombarding_ me with ever since this training session began. _Try_ to contain your reaction."

A large arm wrapped around him, pulling him closer. Magnus lowered his helm, resting it on Smokescreen's shoulder. The lieutenant exvented, causing the young 'bot to shiver as hot air ghosted across his audial.

"And soldier," the lieutenant vocalized barely above a whisper "you forgot to say _sir_."

A hot and heavy field crashed into his. Causing Smokescreen to cry out and pull at his restraints. His entire frame shook. He tried to pull away from the offending field, but the arm around his waist tightened and dragged him back. His wings and aft roughly scraping against Magnus, sending heat across his entire frame.

Smokescreen pulled at the cuffs, he _needed_ to get away. If Magnus continued with his touches then Smokescreen was going to make a noise that was _definitely_ inappropriate for training. He tried to shift his hips away, but they were yanked back down, rubbing harshly against the lieutenant's pelvic armor.

"Good, soldier," the lieutenant ground out, "Remember, the object of today's training session is escape."

Yeah, t-training, he had to show Mags that he was more than just a custodian 'bot. He _had_ to get away. He started wriggling his aft, earning a grunt from the 'bot behind him. Ha! Smokescreen smiled, it was working. He doubled his efforts, moving his hips faster trying to get some distance from the lieutenant, but every time he moved the larger bot would pull him back down, each time harder than the last.

Magnus must have lost his patience with him because the older 'bot was no longer waiting for Smokerscreen to try and escape. Instead using the arm wrapped around the smaller 'bot to pull him harshly down onto pelvic plating in a hard fast rhythm. Hard enough to draw sparks from where metal connected. Making his wings jostle uncomfortably against the lieutenant's chassis.

The heat, the pleasure, the _pain_. It built inside him with every rough scraping of plating. His aft beginning to feel raw and soar from the harsh pounding of metal on metal.

It was all too much and Smokescreen whimpered. No longer able to hold back his static laden moans.

The lieutenant growled, engine roaring and making the smaller 'bot in his lap shiver. Not even bothering to lift the younger 'bot anymore Magnus pressed Smokecsreen's aft down hard against his pelvic armor and roughly scraped it back and forth.

A large servo reached down to the front of Smokescreen's own pelvic armor and rubbed harshly. Causing him to let out a gasp that was filled with static. The lieutenant continued rubbing making Smokescreen buck his hips and let out static choked sobs.

He felt hot, too hot. It—he—he needed to get this heat _out_ of him.

"S-sir, p-please."

Immediately Magnus's mouth was right next to his audial. Letting out small grunts as he said, "Please _what_, soldier?"

"I… I need you to d-do something. Please, I…I can't…" He couldn't even finish the sentence. His processor was clouding over with something. His entire frame was crackling with built up static and heat. Smokescreen let out another long drawn out moan. Nearly missing what Magnus said next.

"If you want something done soldier," a growl filled with static came from the lieutenant, "You are going to have to do it _yourself_. This is _your_ training session. Remember that."

Smokescreen groaned. He couldn't keep going like this. Whatever was building inside of him needed to get _out_. He needed _release_. Like what Magnus said, he needed to _do_ something.

Smokescreen ground his aft down onto the lieutenant's pelvic plating. Needing more of that delicious friction. Needing it to relieve th- the _pressure_ building up inside him. But apparently it wasn't enough for Magnus, because he felt strong servos grip his waist and pull him down, faster, and harder.

So much for making _him_ do something.

"Next time," Magnus grunted in his audial, "Next time you will open for me."

N-next time… there wouldn't… he wouldn't—Ahhh!

Large digits dug into the seams around his pelvic plating, caressing the connectors found there. Every movement dragging static with it. The lieutenant pinched a thick overly sensitive interlink cable causing Smokescreen to throw his helm back and grit his denta.

Smokescreen's entire frame shook. His wings stiffened and quivered as whatever that had been building up inside him was finally released. Wrenching his arms against the cuffs holding them he let out a long low staticky moan. He felt denta clamp around his neck as the 'bot behind him stiffened as well. A deep groan coming from the larger 'bot, causing him to shiver.

Magnus shook with him for a klik, ventilating harshly, before dumping him unceremoniously from his lap, face meeting the floor again. Aft up.

Laying there, small bouts of electricity dancing across his frame and field giving off a warm content buzz, it suddenly crossed Smokescreen's processor that Mags had never actually told him how to get himself out of the cuffs. Did that mean he'd failed today's training? Was training even over? Would he have to repeat the lesson? Not that he wanted to or anything like that, really, he didn't… Okay…Maybe—maybe just a little bit. Not anytime soon though. He didn't think he'd be ready for another training session for another decacycle.

Exventing softly he watched Magnus walk away, heading straight toward his weapons rack on the wall. Oh good— Smokescreen let out a sigh of relief. That meant he was going to get the key to the stasis cuffs. Training was _finally_ over. He watched the lieutenant grab something from the rack and turn back towards him. Smokescreen frowned, that… that didn't look like a key.

Walking toward him at a slow pace Magnus tapped the small device against the palm of his servo. A small metallic prod barely longer than the servo holding it. The tip crackling with electricity and giving off an ominous blue glow.

"You have not yet removed yourself from the stasis cuffs, soldier. Therefore training is not over."

He caught the not quit a smirk on the lieutenant's face plate and Smokescreen 's plating tightened. Oh—oh no.

**~ The End**


End file.
